Pink Sweater
by brandirandom21
Summary: I obviously wasn't thinking when I bought it. I mean, it was an obnoxiously bright pink...I hated the color. I learned later why it all worked out.


Disclaimer: Don't own Ben 10 'cause MoA does, blah blah blah, who really gives a crap, blah blah blah. Seriously. Does MoA really care if a 16 year old claims to own Ben 10? Really?

_Pink Sweater_

I obviously wasn't thinking when I bought it. I mean, it was an obnoxiously bright pink. I hated the insanely girly color because I thought of it as being cliche, which was why I stuck to blue and red. It was too soft and perky. The pockets on it had zippers for some weird reason. I don't know what got into me really. I had won my first prize cash from a tennis competition in Bellwood, and I had wanted to buy something. Even though I had my eyes on the iPod Touch, I bought the cheap, super girly and soft pink jacket from Kohls.

I guess I learned later on why it worked out. Cuts on my wrist, fresh and healing, were soothed by the ridiculously soft material. The bright eye catching color brought attention away from the acne on my face, and it somehow made my breasts look bigger. The zipper pockets held notes from my friends, which was nice in case of me accidently dropping it in the hallways. When I wore it to school for the first time, people began to tease me, not because I was Asian or had straight A's, or had acne, or didn't have the expensive, smelly clothing from Abecrombie and all those other places...they began to tease me about the sweater.

"Bright enough for you?" one cheerleader sneered at me, flipping her beautiful blond straightened hair over her shoulder.

"God, I can see you from miles away," a cute guy I had my eye on for a few months, told me, rolling his eyes.

"Where did you get that? Walmart?"

"It looks so kiddy," another girl had smirked. "Are you stuck in second grade hun?"

Eighth grade was really starting to get on my nerves. I didn't think the torment would ever end. But I still wore that damn sweater, even when my friends tried to convince me to dump it in the garbage. Or in front of Goodwill.

"I thought you were smarter than this," Liz told me, shaking her head. She had to raise her voice because the other kids were moaning and groaning about their new assigned seats. "I can't help but agree with those preps. You look ridiculous."

"They aren't _preps_," I corrected her. "They're cheerleaders. And not all cheerleaders are bad. You know Amanda. She's nice."

"OK, that's one," Liz snorted. Alex elbowed her sharply, earning a glare, but ignoring it.

"It's cute, but too cute." She sighed, brushing my long bangs from my eyes. "Maybe if you got a hair cut, it would look better on you. You kind of look like a second grader with the long hair and the pink sweater. Maybe if you get a bob, you would look older." Ah Alex. The fashion magazine scoper. She had the right idea though.

"But the bangs-"

"Cover your acne spots. Maybe you need to cut your bangs, that way they aren't in your face and the oil doesn't build up in your pores."

I sighed heavily, considering the idea and tugging at my hair. I had grown it out for two years. I didn't want to cut it again, because I wanted to donate hair to Locks of Love. I was five inches short-literally-from where I wanted to be. The biology class silenced when the lesson started, and I copied down notes. Like usual, the typical smart Asian girl I was. Jesus, just because I'm Asian, doesn't mean I was naturally gifted with intellect, no matter how many times people think it's true.

"Mind if I copy your homework from last night?" a person whispered behind me. "I forgot to do mine." I sighed heavily. Just what I thought. I turned around to face him. I forgot his name, but I remembered him from somewhere. The eyes were really familiar. He frowned. "Or maybe not. Sorry."

"No, it's fine," I sighed again. I quietly took out my folder and passed him the homework sheet.

"Thanks," he whispered, with a genuine smile. Huh. That was weird. No one's really thanked me before. Maybe once or twice, but not often."

"No problem." I contuined taking notes as I heard him scribble down the answers. He paused, making a surprised noise. Then he poked me on my shoulder. He passed me a folded piece of paper.

_Julie Yamamoto? Aren't you in tennis?_

Wow. Who was this guy?

_Yeah... _I wrote back. _How did you know?_

_Remember the sports team portraits we had to take before the season started? I bumped into you once. You were holding a metal for winning a tournament or something like that._

Yeah, I remembered. The week before I bought the sweater. Strange how I remembered that.

_You seemed really familiar _I wrote. _Who are you?_

_Ben Tennyson :) I'm the soccer team's goalie. _

I smiled. _Didn't you guys lose against red hills on tuesday?_

_Ouch, yeah, we did, haha :P but i wasnt in the game that night. sprained ankle. _I looked down and he lifted his leg so I could see. Yup. Bandage wrapped around his ankle.

_that really sucks :( sorry that had to happen. who had to substitute?_

_damon richards. he's really arrogant. he got too cocky and it costs us the game._

Ah. _I know him. he makes fun of me constantly._

He frowned. _why is that?_

I pointed at the suspect.

_It's not that bad. Actually, pink's a good color on you._

I blinked once or twice. I blushed. Was this guy actually complimenting me? Now that I thought about it...he had some really pretty green eyes..._Really? you actually think that? _

_sure thing. don't worry about what others say about you._

_thanks. man, i should have talked to you eariler at the pictures. better yet in class. you're really nice. :)_

_Thanks :) you're really nice yourself._

He had to wind up using another piece of paper to keep writing back and forth. It was nice, having a nice conversation with someone. Espicially this guy. After that day, we still talked, but it was through notes. After a month of that, it was summer time, and I didn't have a cell phone or Facebook, so we lost touch. Freshman year we didn't have classes together, and I still wore that same pink sweater, my hair still growing longer and longer.

Sophomore year, I guess, was my magic year. My hair was finally long enough to cut and donate to Locks of Love, and I followed Alex's instructions. I got a pretty bob that angled itself at my chin. My skin was clearing up after using a new acne medication (though it seemed to attack me furiously when Mother Nature gave me her special, signature monthly gift). My sweater was still bright pink and eye catching. People actually began to like it, and I began to like it too. More people talked to me, and I had a lot more friends. I guess I was becoming more friendly, after that one conversation with him.

Then the soccer games started. Alex convinced me to buy a ticket to watch. I hoped it wasn't too stalkerish to try to talk to him. After the game we talked and he was all flushed. I couldn't help but smile.

After a week or so, he actually came up to me in the hall wayso we could talk. Then we started dating after our little...urm...adventure with Ship. And we've had our ups and downs. We kissed, we fought, we made up, we laughed, we cried, and we loved.

All of this because of one damned sweater?

Guess pink is my best color after all.

* * *

><p>AN: Eh. A little Julie dabble. She hasn't received a lot of love lately :P Review :D


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